Vampire Diaries: Betrayal
by lupinskitten
Summary: How Katerina learns the truth about what Klaus intends to do with her. Focuses on her brief love affair with Elijah, ends with her escape. Chapter Two rated M just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Betrayal **

Each evening, the nightingale sang.

Tonight, it was a different, mournful sound that passed through the garden; muffled, quiet, as demure as the young woman who made it. She had waited until hearing his footsteps.

"Katerina?"

She looked up at him, her skirts damp from the rain. Trembling hands wiped away her tears. "I am sorry, my lord, I did not mean to disturb you."

Elijah knelt beside her, hesitating before placing a hand on her shoulder. He was always so careful not to take advantage. "Is this about Klaus?"

Dark curls moved in the wind. She nodded. At the banquet, he had paid her little attention. She wanted to know _why_. Elijah knew more than he shared with her; whenever he lied to her, he evaded her gaze. A multitude of stories existed behind his demure poise.

To Klaus, Katerina was a sacrifice, a necessary arrangement. Klaus had no more intention of marriage than in sparing her life. The truth was hidden from her.

Elijah hated that. For months, he'd been searching out a means of saving her life. His fingers lingered against the fabric of her sleeve, aware of the warmth beneath. "My brother…" he hesitated, "I fear he is not as attentive to you as he should be."

Maybe it was easier for them all this way, if Klaus gave her no false hopes. Yet, she _was_ promised to him.

"But _why_?" she asked him, earnest in this at least. "Do I not please him? Is my beauty not enough? Am I not worthy to be a lord's wife?"

She _knew_ that she was not, for she was tainted, had given birth, a secret that she hoped would remain unknown in England. Neither Klaus nor Elijah was aware of this, and she hoped her virginal appeal would soften him.

It did.

In a rare moment of sincerity, he said, "You are everything he could ever hope for, or any man."

Katerina searched his gaze and found a quiet sort of misery there. Her eyes dropped, long lashes making her appear demure, even flattered at this compliment. Elijah's hand fell—and she caught it, pressing it to her heart. This aroused most men and had an effect on him, as she had hoped. "You are so kind to me," she said.

Silence surrounded them, interrupted only by the dripping of rain. Her face turned upward, her lips slightly parted in an unspoken but subtle invitation. She knew he wanted her. He'd avoided touching her for weeks, other than the occasional kiss on the back of her hand. His gaze was never far from her in a crowded room, and it was always he who found her in moments alone, who was never far from the sound of her voice. She had but to weep, and he would appear, conscious of his place but incapable of allowing her to endure pain.

Elijah leaned nearer, considering the cost of tasting those sweet red lips—and drew back. "You should go inside, Katerina, or you will catch cold."

He was ever the gentleman; but it wasn't a gentleman she wanted. She wanted his secrets, the truth, and barring that, to know the ferocity of his lovemaking. Such restraint, such calm, such deliberation, such repression could have but one end. She did not love him, but then, she did not love Trevor, either. She baited him constantly, speaking of love and romantic attachments, intending to draw his awareness to his brother's lack of interest.

Elijah slid his hand out from under hers, still tingling at the faintest touch of bare skin beneath her gown.

"Perhaps if I were deathly ill, Klaus would pay more attention to me." Katerina strode out from under the arch and stood in the rain. It streamed down her face and flattened her hair. She was there an instant before Elijah yanked her to safety. Beads of water slid down her neck. He was aware of every drop, of the slightest rustle of fabric, of the steady beat of her heart.

"Then go inside for _my _sake, for _I_ do not wish you to take ill."

A door opened somewhere behind them, and drew her into the house.


	2. Chapter 2

Elijah had spent years learning to control his bloodlust, his anger, to harness it, so that he never made mistakes. Where Kol was flamboyant and passionate, and Klaus was violent and swift to retaliate, Elijah brought common sense and calm. But what Katerina did to him was anything _but_ calm. She tempted him, teased him, toyed with him… and he was not sure how aware of it she was, if it was intentional or in utter innocence. Self-annoyance sent him out into the rain, to the wood, near the main road, where it was not long before a woodsman passed by. He knew no pain, only a swift attack that later sent him home once more, his head full of thoughts of a wolf bite. Unlike Kol or Klaus, Elijah never over-fed, or killed those he did drink from. He had limitations, morals, restraint…

Yet, these very attributes tormented when he entered the house. He wanted to toss them aside along with his damp garments. There slept a woman in the next room that he _wanted_, to take away from Klaus, away from this place, away from the certain death awaiting her. Loyalty held him back. Restraint kept him in check. Morals prevented it.

He braced himself against the fireplace and stared into the dancing flames. And it was then he sensed her presence. Katerina stood in the shadows, watching him. His muscles tensed. "You should not be here, Katerina," he said.

Light footsteps fell behind him. "Then tell me you do not want me here, and I will go."

One glance revealed everything she wanted him to see: bewitching curves, shapely limbs, long legs beneath a simple shift and corset. He wanted to look away and couldn't, as for a moment his eyes devoured her, gratified to know that his imagination as what resided beneath yards of thick woven fabric had been accurate. One shoulder slipped free as she approached, her hand going to the back of the chair in front of the hearth.

"You belong to Klaus," he said.

Her brow arched, her voice undertaking a sultry purr. "I _belong _to no one."

Firelight gleamed in her hair, illuminating pale skin. Elijah moved around her, pacing nearly to the bed. He could not bear to look at her. His tone softened, almost pleading. "Katerina… you are spoken for. My brother has laid claim on you."

"Your brother has no interest in me." Katerina ran her fingers up his arm, forcing him to close his eyes. "My door has been unlocked for some weeks, yet he never enters through it." She turned him to face her, stepping so near he could retreat nowhere but to the end of the bed. Her fingers caressed his cheek, traveling down to his neck. She whispered, "It is not him that yearns for me. I see how you watch me. And you are too noble to take what you want?"

The bed moved as her knee fell upon it, forcing him backward. She went with him, her curls sliding over her shoulders. She looked so much like her ancestor, the woman he and Klaus had both loved… the dark and eyes, yet there was something different in Katerina, ruthlessness beneath her charm. He was drawn to her, yes… he had loved once… loved and lost. It would be wrong to accept her advances, knowing what Klaus intended. It would be cruel.

"Honor means a great deal to me," he said.

Soft curls brushed against his bare skin as she crouched over him. "More than this, my lord?"

All he needed to do was use his influence on her to send her from the room… tell her to erase any such thoughts of him in her mind…

Instead, he let her kiss him. She was warm and soft, full of blood, full of life, everything he missed most. She straddled him, her hands at his neck, his shoulder, his back. Warmth rushed through her; he felt it, felt the blood pulsing beneath her pale skin. Looking up at her, brushing her mass of dark curls behind her ear, he whispered, "You should go," in a final attempt at gentlemanliness.

Her response was to kiss him again, parting his lips and invading his mouth with her tongue. Resistance gave in. Three hundred and some years had passed since he'd held a woman in his arms. But it was familiar, similar, a sensuous rush that began in that teasing caress. Katerina drew in her breath as his mouth went to her throat, his hands sliding her petticoat upward, gripping the curves of her leg. His mouth moved across her shoulder, her throat, teasing her until she shoved him down into the pillows. With lightning speed, he flipped them over. His mouth traveled downward, to the skin heaving against her corset. Laces were undone, fingers sliding between them to find soft flesh. Her body strained against his, a moan escaping as he kissed between the stays.

Elijah lifted his head and looked into her eyes. "Quietly, Katerina," he said, brushing his fingers against her lips. It was his only use of control. Klaus would not have cared, but Elijah was not like his brothers; his lovemaking would not echo downstairs.

Flames leapt and danced in the hearth. Rain drummed at the roof. Her head tilted back and she surrendered. His passion was deep, full of longing, teeming with secrets that rivaled hers. He was strong enough to hold her down and gentle enough to leave no bruises. No movement was made in haste, even though feverish intensity lurked beneath his deliberate actions. But she was no longer certain that she controlled him; that it was not _she_ who was being seduced, if she even cared to discover his secrets. He occupied her every thought, both alluring and frightening in his intensity.

When he brought their bodies together, Katerina gripped the coverlet and pulled until her fingers paled. She could make no more than soft sounds, though she wanted to cry out in ecstasy. Her scandalous secret was made known in that moment, for she felt no pain and he met with no resistance. Like her ancestor before her, this was a woman who had known other men and given one a child.

Elijah fought the urge to bite down, wrapping his arms around this fragile human, listening to her shallow breaths in his ear, tasting her sweat. Glorious brown hair cascaded on the pillow, moving with them, scented of the outdoors. He wondered what it was like to be human, for he had forgotten; to receive such power and precision in lovemaking; to never know that any moment, you might be crushed, torn apart, devoured, to be wholly oblivious to danger.

When he finished, there was no stain on her flushed skin, no bruise to mar her slender frame, nothing but the warm rush of satisfied exhaustion. Her labored breathing quieted, and he brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. She knew from his expression the nature of his thoughts.

"You will not tell Klaus," she said.

It took him a moment to understand what she meant; it mattered little to Klaus if she was a virgin or not, but it would have to most men on their wedding night. There would be no marriage, no union, and no joining of bodies… there would be only a ritual, and her death.

"No, I will not tell him."

Weariness overcame her and she slept. Elijah dressed and paced the floor, staring at her. He felt uncertain, torn between devotion to his brother and fascination with this woman. Katerina put on a remarkable guise of innocence but was anything but. Again, he felt an urge to save her, if only to know her further, beyond the few hours left to them.

He had sought out a witch in the wood and asked for her help. She had shown him a phial of liquid and promised it would work. "You are certain?" he'd asked. "For if it does not, you will not live to see the dawn."

It was said quite innocently, lightly, as he fingered her wares. The witch glared at him, moving nearer in the shack. Bones hung from the ceiling, and twisted flowers, other scattered implements of her craft crowding narrow shelves. Her eyes narrowed. She concentrated. Where should have been burning pain, there was only a faint hum. Elijah had crossed the room and taken hold of her, staring down into her fearful eyes. "I am one from whom all others originate. Do not think you can harm me."

Her eyes had darted to the phial. "It won't work. You need much stronger magic than this. I can get it for you, but I need time!"

There wasn't much left. Tonight, for it neared dawn, Klaus would perform the ritual, and Katerina would die.


	3. Chapter 3

A knock on the door stirred him from his thoughts. It did not wake Katerina. He opened it, and a servant with a downcast gaze said, "I am sorry to disturb you, my lord, but there is a woman at the front gate who wishes to speak with you. She says it is urgent."

Cold did not bother him, so he took no cloak with him into the rain. The witch awaited him on the other side. "The moon is tonight," she said. "Tell me what you intend to do."

"The details are unimportant to you," he answered.

She shook her head. "I must know them, else the spirits will be unsatisfied and it will not work."

Elijah closed his hand around the iron slat. It would take little pressure to break it. "First, Klaus kills the werewolf, then the vampire, then the girl, when the moon reaches its apex. It is bound to a stone."

"Have you no concern for this girl, that she must suffer such a death?"

The faintest of sounds reached his ear. Elijah held up his hand to silence her. He glanced behind them into the darkness, staring into the shadows. Nothing moved. Returning his gaze to the witch, he said, "That is none of your concern."

She thrust at him a bundle that once unwrapped revealed a few sprigs of wolfsbane and a small glass phial. "It will work," she told him, teeth chattering from the cold. "I have consulted the spirits. The wolfsbane makes it potent. Mix in just enough to turn the liquid blue. She must take it no more than an hour before her death."

He searched her eyes in the partial darkness. "If you are wrong…"

"I swear that I am not."

Horses stirred in the stables. Dawn crept across them.

"Go, quickly."

She hastened away from him into the haze. Elijah pocketed the phial and returned to his room. Within moments the house would stir and the servants wake. Entering his chambers, he went to the bed. "Katerina," he said softly. She moaned in her sleep and turned away from him. "Come, you must return to your room."

She slept on.

Drawing her up into his arms, he carried her down the hall and placed her in her own bed. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he left. Klaus wanted to hunt that day. It seemed a morbid occupation hours before he intended to drain his intended of blood to break a curse, but Elijah denied him nothing. He caught sight of a servant girl in passing but ignored her, retrieving his sword from its resting place.

Katerina slept peacefully, waking only when a faint squeak followed by quick footsteps brought her maid to the side of the bed. "Mistress," she said urgently.

The young woman sighed, burrowing deeper into the covers.

"Mistress, you must up and away from this place!" the girl hissed, shaking her.

"Leave me," murmured Katerina.

Climbing onto the bed, the maid tore off the covers. "They're going to _kill you_!" she hissed.

Tousled but suddenly awake, Katerina sat up. "_What_?"

"You told me to keep an eye on Elijah… he left you this morning, he met a woman at the gate and he told her that tonight, you will die in some pagan sacrifice! He mentioned a werewolf, and a vampire, and you, Mistress!"

"Oh, Bess, you've been dreaming again."

"No, Mistress! It was the town witch! And they've been preparing _for days_. I've watched them, just as you instructed. Mistress, you must go now, before he returns! The men ride out on a hunt. You can leave while they are gone! Put some distance between you and them, so they cannot carry out the ritual while the moon is full."

Nimble fingers tightened her corset, tugged back her hair, made her presentable. Katerina did not want to believe it, but she had respect for witches, and if there were such things as spell-casters, was it so difficult to believe in vampires and werewolves either? She felt dizzy, sick with horror at the thought of what she had done in recent hours. She thought of the night before, of Elijah, of his gentleness… and his secrets. No wonder he hadn't wanted to touch her, to confide in her, even at times to meet her gaze when they spoke of Klaus.

Suddenly, she was furious at him.

"You must see them off," said Bess, shaking as she smoothed down her mistress' hair. "They must think nothing is wrong. Go to the barn and find Trevor. He loves you; he can be convinced to help you."

Klaus, she could understand. He never pretended she was anything more than a lamb for the slaughter. But Elijah had befriended her, comforted her, spent time with her, made love to her, all the while knowing that in a few hours, she would be dead.

That is, if it was _true_… but Katerina was smart enough not to wait and find out.

She went downstairs, perfectly composed. She went looking for them in the direction of the barn. She would smile and simper and see them off with many a flirtatious glance, like usual. But as she neared the stables, she heard low voices and darted into the shadows. Creeping up to the stall, she peered through a crack in the slats.

Her mouth opened and no sound came out, as she clamped a hand over it to stifle her cry.

Klaus stood inside, a struggling woman in his arms. Elijah faced in the opposite direction, staring out over the wood. He preferred not to watch, to revel in his brother's barbarity. The girl shoved and kicked, but could do nothing against Klaus' strength. Fangs firmly planted in her neck, all she could do was whimper, which gradually fell into silence. Finally, he finished. Her limp body fell into the straw at his feet. Blood trickled down his chin and he wiped it up with a smug expression.

"Is it really _necessary_ to kill them all?" Elijah asked, staring down at her. She had been pretty, young, vivacious, sensual and now was nothing more than a corpse. Trevor would bury her in the woods with the others.

"Would you prefer I make bastards? Feed them a few drops of blood, snap their neck?"

Someone touched Katerina on the shoulder. She nearly screamed, and would have had not a hand clamped over her mouth. "What are you _doing_?" Trevor hissed. He dragged her a few paces away, behind the barn, and let her go.

Rather than run, Katerina clung to him. "You must help me!"

"I can't." He shook her off and walked away.

She followed, stumbling over her long skirts. "Trevor, they're going to _kill_ me."

Muscles worked in his cheek. He deliberately avoided her gaze. Clutching at his arm, tears in her eyes, Katerina said, "Trevor, _please_?"

Everything they had shared was in that appeal; days and nights spent together, passionate kisses, whispered promises, secrets that they shared. Hesitation made her know that she had a chance. Her grip tightened. "I don't want to die," she whispered.

"I can take away your fear, your memories. I can make you forget."

Shocked, she backed away from him. "You would take my fear, but not give me my life? You said that you _loved _me! What love is this, that you would sacrifice me like some animal on an altar?"

Anguish filled his gaze.

"How long have you known?" she demanded.

Trevor looked miserable. "Not long, a few days in fact. I wasn't meant to know, except they need me to keep an eye on you. If I help you, Katerina, Elijah will _kill _me."

Horses whinnied. The sound startled them. He reached for her and she jerked her arm away. "I…" he looked at her, at her soft brown eyes, at her lips, at her long, beautiful hair. "You must run," he said. "Go north, but wait until they've gone. I will try and lead them away from you. Go back up to the house. Pretend nothing is wrong. Klaus will notice nothing, but you must fool Elijah. Your life depends on it."

Shoving her in the direction of the house, Trevor headed for the stables. Katerina ran, not stopping until she stood in the great hall. By the time Elijah entered behind her, she had regained her composure. She turned to him, noticing his quiet confidence and utter lack of concern. It was difficult to keep the anger out of her face, but the cold chill that passed down her spine as he reached her side took its place.

"Good morning," he said. "I thought you would sleep for some hours yet."

Forcing her fingers to rest on his arm, Katerina stroked sensuously, as she had done the night before. "I did not want to miss you," she said. "You will return before dusk, I hope? I do hate to dine alone."

"Oh, I should think we would be home some hours before that," he answered. Something was different about her, more flushed. "Are you well?"

She tried not to flinch as his hand touched the side of her face. She stepped nearer to him, her fingers sliding down his chest. "Your exertions were more than I anticipated, my lord. But, I do intend to be fully recovered by this evening… if that is your wish."

The expression she received told her nothing, not if he suspected or was placated. Fortunately, Klaus' voice rang out in the hall, startling her so that they fell apart. He shouted for one and all and the dogs, and with a final curious glance, Elijah left her. She saw them to their horses. She did not draw her hand back when Klaus kissed it and promised her a feast of wild boar. She waved them off, the eyes of all three men lingering on her as they departed. She watched them ride off down the road.

And then, she ran.

She ran until she could run no more, until she heard them behind her, until darkness fell and the moon started to rise, until Trevor caught up with her and told her where to go.

And somehow, she knew that whatever happened, she would never stop running.


End file.
